I really liked this fic. The comparisons you drew were ones that I had never thought of but that now seem as logical and evident as had they been stated by Tolkien himself. I particularly liked the way that you implied that at the end of days, in Arda Unmarred, Feanor would be forgiven and there would, at last, be peace between him and his half siblings. I think that it makes sense that Fingolfin went into battle knowing he would die and also that he went into that battle to bring hope to others. Basically, I really liked this fic and I appreciate that you wrote it. Thanks, Samuel La Flame

Very beautiful, very sad. Without Feanor around to use as a yardstick, a guiding light, or surrogate passion, what is Fingolfin to do?

Well, maybe it's not quite like that, since he did last four centuries after Feanor died- but then, to an Elf, what is that?

The metaphor is very striking- Feanor born with a spirit of fire, Fingolfin hardening in that long trek across the Helcaraxe. But fire and ice sort of cancel each other out, merging into a new thing, or nothing.

I like the imagery in this especially. Ice and fire, fire and ice, smoke and mist...

It's a shame that even hundreds of years after Fëanor's death, Fingolfin is still in his shadow, he is ice because Fëanor is fire, he doesn't think of himself in terms of himself, rather in terms of Fëanor.

Sorry, that probably made no sense. What I mean to say is that I liked it, and I'm hoping it'll re-awaken A Very Fire... I need my fix! :)

Beautifully written, but almost jarringly abstract, as compared to your other pieces. Like them, it's decidedly leaning towards the poetic, but I think the first person, philosophical nature of it makes it definitely stand out. It seems perhaps that was your intention with it?

"...I who should not have been born..."

Well, that seems to sum it up fairly concisely. The irony of the High King of the Noldor, with such poor self-esteem *tsks*

Er... levity aside, it really does capture the Fingolfin of "A Very Fire" - only a much older, wiser one, who knows and understands himself so much better. And yet... he still seems to be missing something IMPORTANT, somehow. Still defining his identity in terms of Feanor. He calls himself ice, because Feanor is fire, and he is not Feanor. But where IS Fingolfin in that description?

The imagery in this is so incredibly powerful. "Ice and fire, fire and ice"

"Red and yellow encased in a clear crystal of blue and white, like the rising of the sun at the entrance to Beleriand, flashing and reflecting, warming and cooling, more than alive"

"And so broken, fire and ice become one"

It makes me think of T.S. Eliot, "the fire and the rose are one"

Fingolfin feels he should not have been born (what a burden)...and the Silmarils should not have been made. And yet even in despair their is hope, Arda Healed "from our own hearts, broken and rebroken once more"

"we have already both gained and lost the Silmarils"

Again, I think of T.S. Eliot, "Love is the intolerable shirt of flame" "consumed by either fire or fire"

Very good, but also very disturbing, if Fingolfin has reached the point where he thinks he should not have been born. No wonder the only thing left to do for him is to die with honour.

The higher chemistry of fire and ice turning to vapour and smoke in order to mingle and become one, makes this vignette almost a mystical text. But the images given in Sil did ask for it.

Ithilwen too lazy to log in chapter 1 . 11/4/2002

I'm glad you finally posted this. So it's the knowledge that he is going into certain defeat that makes it possible for Fingolfin to finally understand (at least in some measure) his lost brother, who doubtless was unconcerened with whether or not the Noldor would be victorious when he urged them to do battle with Morgoth, caring only that they try. Showing that Fingolfin learned from the Edain how to face his upcoming death is a nice touch.

Maeve Riannon chapter 1 . 11/4/2002

Ice and fire, fire and ice..

I loved that story when I first stumbled upon it, but I didnt have the opportunity of saying it until now. Fingolfins musings about ice and fire being reunited are highly revealing, and all the whole seems more like poetry than anything else.